


A Curious Case of Advertisements

by kceedraws



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Daminette, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, MariBat, Maridami, Romantic Friendship, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 14:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kceedraws/pseuds/kceedraws
Summary: Or, the Daminette fic that started off as a Blind Date one-shot but slowly morphed into a Fake Dating AUWhen Damian’s surly loneliness gets to be too much, his older brothers decide to take matters into their own hands.Fortunately for them, a little meddling from one young woman's best friend lands them the perfect opportunity to set him up on a date.
Relationships: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Damian Wayne
Comments: 22
Kudos: 166





	A Curious Case of Advertisements

After reading the newspaper snippet, Marinette figured that, well...it made sense that Alya of all people was the one that presented it to her. It read: 

-

_ SEEKING PARTNER FOR _ <strike> _ DEMON SPAWN _ </strike> _ YOUNGER BROTHER _

_ Seeking a partner (long-term status preferable, but not necessary) for our irritable, lonely, callous twenty-one-year-old brother who desperately needs to lighten up. Must pass criminal background screening. Must be good with animals. Serious inquiries only. _

_-_

Marinette lowered the snippet, her face screwed into a knot. “I don’t see how this personal ad is supposed to help me get over Adrien.” 

Alya’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “How are you not falling over yourself right now, girl?! Read the final line.” 

She peered at the splotchy ink and caught the last phrase: 

-

_ Contact us at tdrake@wayneenterprises.co. _

-

“See?!” Alya screeched, bursting with excitement. “Who better to help you get over Adrien than THE Damian Wayne??” 

The amount of mental hoops Alya just jumped through absolutely baffled Marinette. 

“Alya, dearest,” Marinette began patiently. “I don’t know how to break this to you...but I highly doubt that this ad is real.” 

“But—“ 

“And even if it were real...” Marinette interrupted, taking deep breaths to calm her growing headache. “I don’t think that Tim Drake or any of his siblings would have the time to seriously answer something like this.”

Marinette halted when she realized that Alya was silent instead of trying to push through with her usual prodding. 

“Alya?” 

The woman in question rocked to-and-fro on her heels, looking equal parts guilty and pleased with herself. 

“Well, it just so happens that the email address is legitimate – it popped up under the CEO’s profile page on the official _ Wayne Enterprises _ website.” She nonchalantly pulled her phone out of her purse and tapped through several apps as she followed up with, “Plus, I don’t know how to break this to _ you _...but I may have sent an email yesterday on your behalf.” 

“YOU WHAT?” 

Alya stopped her scrolling and all but pushed her phone to Marinette’s face. “And guess who responded not even ten minutes later??” 

Marinette could hardly fathom what she just heard. With a deep scowl, she snatched the phone from her hands and scanned through the contents. 

She couldn’t believe what she saw next. 

-

_ Dear Ms. Cesaire, _

_ Thank you for your timely reply! Our family was touched by your message and would like to further inquire about your friend Marinette, should she be interested as well. _

_ For your convenience, here is a phone number that will lead you directly to our office at Wayne Enterprises. Please have your friend call us if she would like to set a date with our brother. _

_ We look forward to hearing from you! _

_ Yours truly, _

_ Timothy Drake-Wayne _

_ CEO of Wayne Enterprises _

_ +1 (732) XXX - XXXX _

-

Marinette didn’t know what was worse: the fact that her basic information was now in the hands of Wayne Enterprises’ CEO, or that her best friend looked absolutely unapologetic with her wide, hopeful smile. 

Alya’s hands were folded under her chin as she crooned, “So...do you want me to be present during the phone call, or should I give you some privacy?”

Marinette grimaced. This _ really _wasn’t how she wanted to start her day off from work. Nothing about this situation made any rational sense whatsoever. For all they knew, this email could easily be a phishing scam bent on stealing her personal information. Or, the phone number could really lead to a network television program and prompt them to send cameras to her house and tell her that she’d been pranked and — 

She was getting ahead of herself. Still, her point stood: the odds of this set-up being real were looking slim.

And yet the craziest part about it?

Marinette was actually considering taking Alya’s offer. Since all logic was already thrown out of the window, what was stopping her from stepping further into the madness? If Alya had already thrown her in for a penny, Marinette figured that she might as well be in for the whole pound. 

God, her ego sunk when she realized that her most current date prospect was in a random (sketchy) dating ad supposedly from one of the world’s richest families. 

As she dialed the phone number and waited for the tone to ring, Marinette muttered to Alya between clenched teeth, “You’re lucky I promised that you’d be my maid of honor, otherwise _ you’d be so dead by now _.”

* * *

“No.”

From the other side of the call, Damian could hear scoffs and groans at his response (not that he cared). The line crackled to life with Dick interjecting, “But Damian –”

“** _No_ **,” Damian repeated firmly. “I mean it, Richard. I already told you that I’m far too busy overseeing the expansion projects in Paris, and I can’t have anything distracting me. It’s not my fault that you three decided to meddle in my personal affairs when I never asked you to.” 

They erupted in furious whispers, and Damian was about to hang up the phone when Tim’s voice broke through. “You might want to reconsider that stance, D.”

“Why should I?” Damian replied, his voice hovering in boredom.

Dick’s reasoned, “Well, if not for the chance to meet someone, think of it as a good boost in PR. You might be seen as a little bit more approachable, since we all know that your reputation with the public hasn’t...been very clean lately.” 

Pieces of previous headlines (_ “Ice King” “Does He Ever Smile?”) _ flashed through Damian’s head. 

“If you’re trying to convince me, you’re not doing a very good job. I don’t have any control over what the press says. That’s their problem, not mine.” 

“Oh come on!” Tim’s voice was nasally, and Damian could tell that he was pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why can’t you see eye-to-eye with us on this point at least?! You don’t need to have everyone love you, but do you want to go out of your way to be universally disliked?” 

Their end went silent, knowing that they stepped over a line.

“Sorry,” Tim apologized. 

And well...that truth _ did _ hurt, just a bit. Just as much as a punch in the gut would. It wasn’t as if the idea of being publicly viewed as “less than” his family was one of his insecurities. It wasn’t as if his siblings’ sparkling reputations — Richard, the golden boy; Tim, the smart one; Jason, the likeable rebel — made him feel hollow. No. Not at all.

Damian swallowed the growing lump in his throat and grumbled, “Whatever.”

“We’re just worried about you, kid,” Dick added after a long pause. “The whole time you’ve been in Paris, you’ve never taken a day off. At all. Don’t you get tired shutting yourself away in your office and penthouse everyday?” 

“How many times do I need to tell you that I’m fine?!” Damian felt his cheeks redden, but whether it was from embarrassment or frustration, he couldn’t tell. “Surprising as it is, my line of work doesn’t exactly lend much free time to go on dates, let alone start a relationship. And for the record, I’m secure enough to not need either one just to feel happy. So do me a favor and stay out of my business, and _ stay the hell away from my love life _.”

The line went completely silent again, and for a moment Damian thought the call disconnected; maybe (just maybe), _ he _was the one who overstepped a line, misguided as they were.

Before he had the chance to backtrack though, Dick cleared his throat and muttered under his breath, “Well...is now a bad time to let you know that we’ve already set you up with a dinner date tonight at 7:30?” 

"_You did what _.” 

As an adult, Damian had long-since pacified the aggression he felt when he was a kid — mostly. Faced with the news that he was set up with a stranger against his knowledge, Damian felt that old anger quickly resurfacing.

Calmly, like a large wave building up to crash, he stated, “I’m going to say this only once: you idiots will cancel whatever plans you made for me. I don’t care if the restaurant is expensive and charges for the late notice. I don’t care if you’ve planned the whole evening down to the last second. I don’t even care if you set me up with the best-looking person in the city. I **_won’t_** go on this fucking date.” 

Damian heard a “_give me that _” before Jason’s gruff voice spoke.

“Listen here, you little fucker.” Damian rolled his eyes at that endearing nickname . “You heard those other two: we already stuck our necks out for you by putting our ad in that French newspaper. Don’t make us do it again by having to do PR damage control because you’re _ too scared _ to go on a date.”

“I’m not scared — !”

“Then prove us wrong and take the damn night off from work ** _for once in your life_ **.” 

Damian didn’t know whether he wanted to throw his phone across the room or stomp on it. His head throbbed irritably as his brothers began to bicker among themselves, their voices cresting into a giant ripple of noise. He stuffed his phone beneath a nearby pillow to give himself a moment of peace to think.

This was craziness. Complete, unquestionable craziness. He knew he should say “no” and just forget that any of this happened at all. That was the logical thing to do, right? Besides, what right did they have to mess up his work schedule for something as stupid as going on a date from a newspaper’s personal ad section? 

Damian rubbed his temples, already knowing that trashy news outlets would be working overtime to run this story and that he’d be getting questioning looks tomorrow at work. His employees steered clear of him enough as it was, and he didn’t need another reason for them to question his authority.

His stomach lurched just at the thought of another work commotion. What would they think of their boss who seemed so desperate for a date that his family had to go on his behalf and make a whole advertisement about it? 

That gave him pause. The gears in his head started to turn. As much as he didn’t want to believe him, maybe Jason was right — maybe humoring their plans and going on this one date would look better than not going on it at all. At least then everyone would get off his case and think twice before calling him a recluse again.

_ That _ was a headache he’d be glad to get rid of. 

Damian plucked the phone and sighed into the mic. “Alright, you win. Give me the details for tonight.” 

* * *

Marinette said goodnight to her parents, shut the door behind her, and thought back to her evening.

Well...it wasn’t horrible. But it certainly wasn’t the best. 

Still, she couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised by how it turned out.

For starters, the restaurant was far too quiet to have a proper conversation. Despite its glitzy atmosphere and dripping chandeliers, the whole place oozed with snobbery and manners and every high-society antic that made her want to roll her eyes. Marinette may have been dressed for the occasion — Tim Drake’s instructions left no room for vagueness, and her red silk dress did need to be used at some point — but she certainly didn’t feel comfortable expressing herself like she would have on any other date.

Speaking of which, her aforementioned date hadn't looked too comfortable himself. 

The moment Marinette laid eyes on Damian Wayne’s rigid posture and slightly down-turned mouth, she knew that he wasn’t going to enjoy himself either. 

In every respect, he looked and acted the part of a true gentleman. He was dressed to the nines, styled his hair in a perfect coif, pulled her seat at the table, and politely asked her questions about her hobbies - at one point, she swore she even saw him smile. There were a few missteps in their conversation - after all, there was only so much that a person born into wealth could understand about the trials a normal person had to face - but otherwise they were able to pass the two hours in pleasant exchanges.

And yet...he just wasn’t there.

In fact, Damian looked like he wanted to be anywhere _ but _there. Mentally, physically, emotionally, and every other embodiment of the feeling. Not that she blamed him. Nothing, not even the way that the edges of his frown softened later into the night, could hide the fact that all of this was a huge plot set up by other people. 

Marinette sunk into her pillow and into her growing list of thoughts. It was a shame, really, how inauthentic their date had been. Had he not been forced there by his siblings (and had he not been the heir to a billionaire empire), she would have really liked to get to know him more; perhaps they could have even been friends if they really tried. 

But no matter. By tomorrow morning, Marinette could call Alya and brush off the whole thing as a failed attempt at spontaneity. By this time next year, she could recall the date with a bizarre, fever-like fondness. A misprinted line in the story of her life. 

As her eyes drifted off into sleep, Marinette silenced her phone and turned it face-down on her desk, not expecting Damian or anyone else to bid her goodnight. 

Had she kept it face-up, she would have noticed that her phone began to light up with a hungry storm of notifications across her social media pages — all of them demanding to know who it was that seemingly chipped away at the Ice King’s heart.


End file.
